


the sharp and glorious thorn in his side

by follybekind



Category: Constantine (TV), Constantine: The Hellblazer (Comics), Lucifer (Comic), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, bc I said so, john casually hanging aroung places naked, lucifer and constantine fucked, no beta we die like women here, not SUPER explicit but i hope hot enough, they are back on speaking terms and chloe is CONFUSED
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23296738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/follybekind/pseuds/follybekind
Summary: John shows up and Lucifer can't stay mad.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, John Constantine/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 243





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes at the end. Stay home, stay tuned, read shit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a naked man hanging out at Lucifer's place

“Lucifer,” Detective Decker interrupted her partner very cautiously, “there is a naked man in your apartment.”

“Uh? Oh!” The devil’s momentous look of confusion turned to comprehension as he spun on his heels to follow his partner’s line of sight. “Never mind him, detective,” he reassured her with a far too innocent smile. “It’s only my friend John, the one I told you about, remember?” he went on breezily.

  
The man who had just strolled out of Lucifer’s bedroom buck naked stalked toward the duo with an outstretched hand and a friendly smile on his ruggedly handsome face. He had funny discolored blond hair and most interestingly, he was covered in strange cabalistic tattoos in the most inconvenient places, places that Chloe was trying very hard not to ogle as he made his way to her.

“How do you do, luv',” the man said. He had a firm and calloused handshake, as well as a thick British accent the detective couldn’t quite place, but that clearly wasn’t from the same place as Lucifer’s. His voice was cigarette rough, and harsh, charming and dirty in a completely different way.

“Nice to meet you, I’m sure,” Chloe answered a bit awkwardly, averting her eyes.  
“It will be, sweetheart, I'm counting on it,” John said with a cocky wink. Even as she rolled her eyes at the man’s antics – the last thing she needed was another annoying Brit on her hands, honestly – she couldn’t help but feel reluctantly charmed by the warmth he exuded.  
  
  


Lucifer cleared his throat pointedly when they didn’t break their staring contest quickly enough to his taste, and John backed off easily, mirth dancing in his brown eyes.

“Right, Chloe, this is John Constantine, an old friend from before. John, meet Detective Decker, my partner at the LAPD. As I told before, we work cases together and -”

“Lucifer?” Chloe stopped him mid-sentence. “Maybe this could wait until your friend puts some clothes on?” She suggested, blushing slightly under the man’s clearly unashamed nudist stance in the middle of the living room.

“Oh! Of course detective, excuse me, I forget sometimes to account for human’s prudish sensibilities, my bad, really. Johnny dear, would you perhaps grab my robe over there?”  
“Sure thing, love,” John smoothly agreed and just went to put on Lucifer’s lovely silk robe, letting the duo get back to their shop talk. He never objected to wearing Luci’s clothes, for the high quality always felt like a treat, compared to his usual getup. The garment here was so luxurious is felt like water on his skin, leaving him shivering like he would under a lover’s caress, and he reveled in the softness of it as he tied the sash around his hips and went back to the sofas on which the devil and his detective had settled again.

Without hesitation, he sat down next to Lucifer, curling up between his left thigh and the armrest, putting up his legs over the devil’s own, and bending forward just enough so he could comfortably rest his head against Luci’s shoulder. The devil fidgeted a little and threw him a vaguely inconvenienced look but eventually goodheartedly wrapped his arm over the other man, with the simple ease that only comes from habits.

  
Chloe, on the other hand, was speechless. She had never seen anyone acting this way around Lucifer, all lazy languor and casual intimacy. More than that, she had never seen Lucifer take it in stride with such calm, accepting the sensual embrace without a hint of a sexual innuendo. Even with Candy, it had always looked so forced, she had never felt what she was feeling right now. It was so bizarre a situation it had her stomach churning in – was it anxiety? She shook her head to clear it.

  
“Detective? Detective? Are you with us?” Lucifer sounded worried, the same way he always was whenever he wasn’t being listened to. Constantine had a knowing look on his tired face. He grinned smugly at her, as he bent down toward the coffee table and started moving things around.

“I’m fine, just thinking about the case. You were saying?”

“Well I was saying that John here could give us a hand if you’d like, once he’s done with his _thing_ he’s here for. Johnny, what the hell are you doing? Are you trying to throw yourself at the floor?”

“Looking for my fags actually,” Constantine kept going distractedly. “You know you're the only one I throw myself at, luv', come on,” he answered with a flirty smile aimed in the general direction of Lucifer's knees.

“Take mine, stop being a nuisance.” Lucifer didn't hand out his pack of cigarettes, but John did sit up and started groping the devil. Cigarettes located in his jacket's inside pocket, he pulled on out and looked at Chloe.

“Do you mind?”

“No. That sounds great actually,” Chloe answered, still a bit dazed by the scene.

“What?”

“I mean, the helping hand.”

“Really?” Lucifer sounded thrown back by the idea of her agreeing so easily to his suggestion.

“Yeah,” she said slowly, calculating. “It would be an opportunity for us to learn more about each other. Lucifer never mentioned you before, John, so I’m a bit curious.”

Constantine smirked around his lit cigarette – and how did he light it up? Chloe could not remember having seen a lighter being pulled out. “Well, I’m not surprised he didn’t say much of anything. I’m not exactly the kind of friend you casually bring into conversation, luv'.”

“Indeed, you aren’t,” Lucifer chirped in, looking pointedly at the man smoking in his lap.

“Lucifer isn’t either, to be honest,” Chloe said with a tentative smile of her own.

“That’s true,” Constantine laughed a little and patted the other man’s arm gently.

“See, lass,” he carried on, “I have a very particular job.”

“Yes, because Johnny boy here is an exorcist!” Lucifer cut in, looking slightly miffed about being ignored.

  
“An exorcist.”

The detective did not look amused at all by the announcement. She stared at them with a blank expression on her face, trying not to betray her disbelief. Or was it annoyance? Even she couldn’t tell anymore, those two emotions were so tangled up with how she felt about Lucifer half the time anyway. To think she had been hoping to get actual truths on who Lucifer used to be.

  
“Okay,” she said eventually, seeing that no one was being forthcoming with any more information, Lucifer and Constantine locked in a battle of glare. “So I take it you’re another… believer?” She could hear the exasperation in her own voice now but it didn’t seem to deter the half naked nutjob lounging on Lucifer like a very big cat on a statue.

“Believer of what?” Constantine looked kind of confused now.

“You know, the whole, Lucifer is the Devil thing?”

“Luci doesn’t lie, lady,” John Constantine shrugged languidly and stood up in the same movement, apparently tired with the conversation. “I've known him long enough to see it for myself. Now if you don’t mind I’ll go shower in that wonderful bathroom of yours, babe, while you go investigate that thing. My meeting is at seven tonight so don’t wait up.” He bent down to kiss Lucifer on the cheek. The cheek Lucifer was _angling_ _toward him_ in expectation of the gesture. Jesus, she thought. The exorcist left the room with a jaunty wave and a “bye luv'” in her direction.

  
Chloe just smiled and politely waited until they were alone in the elevator to corner Lucifer, because she was grown ass woman and she had manners.

“Who the hell is that guy, Lucifer?” She demanded as soon as the doors closed on them. “What is he doing here? Where does he even come from? And how long is he staying?”

“Wow. Detective!” Lucifer stopped the inflow of questions with a smarmy smirk. “Why, I didn’t know you cared!”

“Shut up, you know I care. Answer the damn questions.”

“Well, I told you already. He’s an old friend and he needed a place to crash during a gruesome and longer than usual job in L.A. so I told him he could come over. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You don’t have that many friends, Lucifer. How come you didn’t tell me about him before?” Even to her own ears it sounded like a whine. “And what’s his deal with the whole exorcist thing? I thought you didn’t like priests.”

Lucifer actually chortled at that.

“What is it?”

“Johnny, a priest!” He was now laughing so hard his eyes shone with mirth in the most handsome way. “When I’m going to tell him that one! This is new, maybe he’d like to role play? I can see him in a starched Roman collar now that you’ve said it.”

“Lucifer!”

“Sorry, sorry detective, just, you could not have been more wrong. John’s a magus, which is, I’m afraid, as far from the Church’s ideals for their priests as it comes.”

“A mage. Okay, why not, I guess you're going to say he’s ' _magic in the sheets too_ '?”

“You said it, not me,” Lucifer conceded with a leer. “And please do stop trying to imitate my accent, detective, it's very off-putting.”

“Right. How did you guys even meet? You're, well, you, and he looked..” she trailed off, unsure of the way she could formulate the idea that Constantine looked like he would not be out of place in jail or in a whorehouse.

“Rough? Don't worry, dear, John's usual is looking like he just jumped out of a dumpster, he wouldn't be offended.”

“He wasn't that bad.”

Lucifer hummed noncommittally. “Well, anyway, I’m afraid that’s not a story for me to tell, detective. Maybe another time, if he agrees.” The man sounded sincere enough so Chloe decided to let it drop.

“As for how long he’s staying, I don’t know. He said a week or so, but it could take longer. Apparently there’s a bad case of evil spirits going about, strengthened by a ‘rising darkness’ nonsense. I didn't quite follow everything, it sounded more of a Amenadiel-problem than a me-problem. With Johnny’s congenital case of bad luck, though, who knows how long he's be stuck with us? Maybe till the next flood!”

On that gleeful conclusion, Lucifer walked out of Lux in big, enthusiastic strides and with a beaming smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is porn. i decided to go for shorter chapters, but there will be more, because i'm bad at publishing thing regularly. this way you guys can have stuff right when it's writing, without having to wait for me to angst about wether "should i add this piece or that to that whole and is it coherent enough?"  
> love you guys


	2. Chapter 2

John's _thing_ finished earlier than he had thought it would. The man he had a rendez-vous with didn't turn up. John had waited an hour, drunk a few pints, and eventually headed back to Luci's place. He was mildly annoyed, but hey, it was the job. Couldn't do shite about it. At least the night was still young and the party at Lux still in full swing. Maybe he'd get to catch Lucifer and convince him to pause the schmoozing and go do the dirty in a dark corner. He coulddo with a little pick me up.

Constantine made his way through the crowd to get to the bartender with the glasses, a non-demonic pretty bird.

“Hey there luv,” he hailed her. “Do y'know if the boss is in?”

“Sorry blondie, he hasn't come back yet. He's probably with his detective friend,” she shrugged and made a face. “But you know. He could be back any minute. Want anything?”

“Ta' luv, but I've already had too many things. Think I'll go straight up. You tell him that when he shows?”

“Sure thing, mister,” she answered with a cheeky wink. John chuckled. Lucifer probably hired his employees for their attitude alone. Not a bad idea, he thought as he rode the lift up to the penthouse. You'd better have a little attitude if you wanted to serve cocktails on the devil's playground every other night.

The flat was lovely in the dim lighting, and the view of the city from up here was just breathtaking. Constantine could appreciate a good atmosphere. Lucifer had tastes, and this place was the nicest John had ever been invited to stay. He snorted at that thought. Wasn't exactly really hard to top his best. He took off his coat and shoes, and decided to skip his intended visit to Luci's bar, instead heading straight up to the shower.

He groaned in pleasure as he plopped himself down face first onto the bed sheets. Fuck but the thread count on those must have been indecent. It felt bloody brilliant on his naked skin. Could get used to that, he thought drowsily, closing his tired eyes.

**

Constantine woke to a heavy weight on the back of his thighs, effectively trapping him against the mattress, a soft mouth trailing burning kisses up his spine. The flat was pitch black, all the pretty lights gone out, and the air felt sweltering hot – as if the place itself was ready to burst under the combined energy of the devil and the exorcist in close contact. Constantine had to repress a shiver and all his instincts, screaming at him from the back of his head to dislodge the newcomer and just _run_.

Lucky for him, John had always been great at ignoring what little good sense he had been left with. He forced his body to go completely limp.

“Do you have any idea,” came the devil's voice, all warm breath and just a hint of sharp teeth against his left ear, “what you look like, all spread out like this on my bed, just for me to find?” His fingers grazed John's sides, nails just shy of biting the skin, teasing. “Downright sinful, Constantine.”

“Right up your alley then, mate, am I right?” John teased, a little breathlessly, all the while trying to subtly test Lucifer's hold on him. The devil laughed at that, low and very much wicked. He moved swiftly to gather the exorcist's wrists in one hand, not giving an inch, and John felt himself harden against the mattress. Bloody hell, he was fucked. Hopefully.

“Don't try and escape with one of your party trick now, Johnny,” Lucifer tutted disapprovingly. He licked a strip of skin from neck to ear, tasting John's arousal assuredly, and Constantine had to hold back a moan at the delicious friction caused by the rough scratch of beard against sweaty skin. The bastard even _felt_ smug. “You look like a feast and I intend to partake, love” he hissed before biting down, _hard,_ on John's nape, and John let out a shout.

“Fuck! Get on with it, mate, would'ya?” he huffed testily, making himself more comfortable in the devil's hold.

“Hush,” Lucifer answered. “You can't rush perversion.”

“Pretty sure that's not how the saying goes, luv.”

“Isn't it? Should be.” Constantine felt his smirk on the small of his back as the devil agreeably followed the curve of John's back, mere inches from where the exorcist wanted his damned mouth. “Be a good boy, keep you hands up, love,” he instructed almost absentmindedly, letting go of Constantine's wrists as he rearranged himself, getting better leverage to press up against the mattress andsettling low on John's legs. The man felt his thighs being spread wide to accommodate the devil's torso, and restrained a whimper. He would always go crazy for a bit of good old manhandling. Didn't happen often that he went to bed with people who could bench press his whole weight ten times over. A bloke had to enjoy the little things in life.

Lucifer must have agreed with the sentiment, because he let out a small pleased hum. Or maybe it was because of what he had found down there. He dropped a playful peck on one of John's arsecheek and _finally_ , finally got to work.

The first touch of tongue, slick and warm against his soft skin, the burn of the devil's beard, gods, John made a sound like a wounded animal. He would feel it for days, he thought as he slowly started to relax under Lucifer's skilled ministrations. He was melting into the mattress, enjoying to the fullest the sweetly decadent feeling of the devil's tongue laving at him, kissing him deep the same way he would his lips, fucking him like he sometimes did his throat, when he was a good boy, and _oh_ lord he was so damned, might as well appreciate the full wild ride down the devil himself was offering.

Constantine hadn't even heard the pop of the bottle opening but suddenly there were fingers in him, too many at a time, too wet and too rough, absolutely bloody perfect, fucking him hard, finding that place that made him tense all over again and see sparks under his closed lids. “Fuck,” the world felt like it was punched out of him by the devil's long and strong pianist fingers, and bugger if he did feel like a finely tuned instrument being played, Lucifer responding to his every reaction with the most unexpected and yet perfect adjustment, be it a kiss, a thrust, or something just as fucking new and sinful.

“Yes, love?” Lucifer asked sweetly, and he wasn't even a bit breathless, the arsehole. He sounded completely in control, and fuck he probably looked it too, still in his three piece suit, holding him down with his insane body strength, or was it the sheer power of Constantine's own damn lust. Probably wanted him to beg. Tough luck, bastard, John thought. Never felt too proud a day in his life to beg for the shit he wanted.

“Please,” the exorcist desperately whimpered, overdoing it a little for Luci's sake. “Please, Luci, I need more, you know it, please.”

“What do you want, Johnny?” Lucifer twisted his fingers hard inside Constantine, before slowly pulling out, staying just out of reach, teasing his hole with the tips only. “Say it,” he whispered against the man's cheek, letting his face brush softly against it, overwhelming in the way only pain mixed with absolute pleasure could be.

“Fuck me,” John let out in one breathy exhale and he could feel the devil grinning against his arse just before Lucifer bit down on it, promising a charming bruise in the shape of the devil's teeth print come morning. John fucking twitched at that thought. “You, pervert,” he finished before he felt himself being picked up by the hips and deposited to his hands knees by Lucifer, the devil having apparently ran out of patience himself with his own little games, or maybe the magical energy that was filling the room to the brim was getting to him too, urging him on. Constantine's own skin was just sizzling with it.

“Shut up, John,” Lucifer answered between gritted teeth. Constantine heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down, the soft rustle of clothes falling on the floor, followed by the sound of the rubber wrapper opening, the wet sound of lube being applied on covered flesh. Lucifer let out a little grunt. Not as unaffected as he wanted him to think he was, Constantine mused smugly. Then Lucifer's slick cock brushed his hole and started pushing in and he didn't thing about anything at all except _yes,_ and _harder,_ and _fuck yes there please do that again_ for a little while.

“You look so good like this, love, so good to me, good man.” Lucifer panted in his ear, still pounding into him with fucking perfect strength and rhythm – because, of course, fucking an actual skilled musician made sense now. Constantine felt his brain turn back on at that, because, yes? Praise had always done things to him, but Luci's ability to read him like a book had also always irritated him to no end. But Lucifer knocked him off his knees and the new angle was so good, Luci's dick hitting so much deeper inside him he couldn't be bothered to get annoyed athim. Lucifer was entirely plastered against his back, all hard working muscles and sweat slick skin and warm human body and John knew he was letting out needy and eager little noises, whining like an animal in heat, but it seemed only to turn on Lucifer even more and encourage him to keep going at his incredible inhumane pace. He would never be able to be buggered by anyone without comparing it to this, he thought deliriously. The devil was breathing hard and suddenly there was a hand slipping under John's body, taking hold of his dick and stroking in a counter movement to the other's thrusts in and out of him, and Constantine's orgasm just overtook him, hitting him like a fucking thousand spells, complete with sparks and everything. In his daze, he barely heard Luci shouting as his body constricted around the other's cock, dragging himover the edge, milking him through completion.

Constantine came to under Lucifer's too heavy weight trapping him against the mattress. He was pretty sure it had been _stars_ he had seen back there, but mostly he was out of breath and lying on the wet spot. He tried to push him off to no avail.

“Fuck, mate, you're crushin' me,” he grunted unhappily. “Get off.”

“Thought I just did,” mumbled the devil sleepily, which, okay, might be adorable, but still. Out of breath there. Still, Lucifer gently pulled out and rolled over to lie on his back. “Well, fuck.” he added emphatically after a minute or two. John wasn't sure he had recovered the sense of time yet. When the energy and his magic would settle, perhaps.

He hummed his assent though, and turned over to try and grab his cigarettes pack on the night stand. He took one out and lit it, lazily sitting up against the bed's comfy frame. The smoke wasn't helping the whole breathless thing but the nicotine rush settled his mind and started his brain again. Lucifer's hand snatched the fag before he could take a second drag. John watched him smoke, lost in thoughts. The sweat was cooling off of his skin already, and he must have had taken care of the rubber, because he lay there looking every bit the flawless angel, gloriously naked and sculptural in the low glow of the city lights below. And yet, Constantine thought, he still looked way too fucking human, with his stupid liner smudged a bit and his hair a right mess of sweaty curls. John frowned a bit. The afterglow was surely fading, he was already annoyed at his stupidly poetic self. He took back his cigarette and stood up on shaky legs. “Bugger,” he grunted again. He _would_ feel this the whole bloody week.

“Go shower, luv,” he said gently to the devil. “I'll take care of the sheets.”

Lucifer jumped a little at being addressed directly. Which, strange, but again the guy was a weirdo. “The clean sheets are in the drawers in the dressing room,” he smiled and got up, still a bit off, but more and more himself with each step he took toward his ridiculous Italian shower. He deposed a light kiss on John's cheek as he passed him by, casual and gentle as you will, making John's guts contract in an uneasy way. That had been far too close to genuinely affectionate for comfort. The fact that he could feel himself mirroring the feeling was worrying. What kind of bloody idiot felt sincere affection for the devil?

Sounded like the kind of stupid sodding shit John Constantine would do, he thought bitterly as he went about making the bed again.

Well, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ended up making this a chapter of it's own, this way people can skip the porn. got rid of some typo too.  
> kisses (from afar)
> 
> stay home, read porn, the plot is coming up soon!


	3. Chapter 3

“Maze! You're back!” Chloe said happily, spotting her friend as she stepped inside the precinct. The woman smiled what the detective had secretly dubbed her scary friends-only smile, all sharp white teeth and blazing eyes, shifting trajectories to stride toward her roommate and wrap her in a bone crushing hug that almost lifted her off her feet.

“I missed you too, girl,” Maze purred. She let her go before Chloe could pass out from lack of oxygen, accepting good-naturedly an awkward shoulder pat from the detective, who began questioning her on her latest trip. Chloe really was glad to have her friend back, and god knew Trixie would be too, she thought, looking on fondly as the woman's face lit up when she started telling her all about New York and the sinful delights and debaucheries to be found on the East coast. Yes, the apartment had been definitely way too quiet without Maze's madness. Chloe could start mourning her knives-throwing-free life in a week or two, maybe. A few eccentricities were worth putting up with if it meant having her around.

Moreover, Lucifer had stubbornly refused to say another word on the subject of one John Constantine to her, and Chloe had had to swallow back her curiosity for the rest of the day. But now that he was gone, and with Maze was here, she could finally start investigating. Surely if someone had to know about Lucifer's past and lovers, it was his right-hand woman.

“It was cold, though,” the woman was saying thoughtfully, wrapping up her story. “I guess I never appreciated enough Lucifer's decision to settle in California. Feels more like home.”

“Speaking of Lucifer,” Chloe said, going for innocent curiosity, “you've been to the penthouse yet?”

“Nah, went straight here to see my girl and get my bounty, I'll drop by later this evening,” she answered easily. She stopped before saying anything more and gave a good look at the detective's affected casualness. “Why? What did he do this time?” she added, suspicious.

“Nothing! Well, I mean, it's Lucifer, he probably did something he shouldn't have, but if I don't know and shouldn't know about it, I really don't want to know, to be honest,” she answered hastily.

“What's with the tone, then,” Maze asked, crossing her arms on her chest. She probably didn't even realize how she came off looking so protective, the detective mused. Years of looking after the man surely were hard to shake off. It was _kind of_ cute.

“It's just-” Chloe hesitated a second on how to say it without sounding like an idiot or a jealous ex-wife “-when I came by this morning Lucifer had this man over, and he was sort of hanging around the place naked, but I'm also pretty sure he wasn't just a hook up.” There, neutral enough.

“You mean, like a boyfriend? You're saying I'm gone for like, three weeks, and Lucifer got himself a _boyfriend_?” Maze sounded both incredulous and annoyed for missing out on the event. “I can't believe him. Three weeks!”

“No, no, I think Lucifer said he arrived last weekend,” Chloe precised. “He did look super comfortable in the penthouse, you know, like, all over him, but in an entitled to it kind of way? Lucifer called him a friend, but I don't know. I got the feeling there was more and that he didn't want to tell me.” She wondered if the other woman could hear the hint of bitterness in her tone. Well. She was allowed to feel betrayed. This was the kind of important things partners told each other. She _was_ rightfully entitled to being bitter about not knowing that her _partner_ had gotten himself an actual boyfriend.

“I mean, good for him, I guess,” Maze said eventually, no longer grumbling. “It's been a while since he had anything even somewhat serious.” She squinted at Chloe and she knew she had piqued her friend's interest for good. “Maybe I know this guy. What was he like?” she added on an afterthought.

“Um, blond, with tattoos,” Chloe started hesitantly, searching her mind for distinctive traits. The bounty-hunter smirked, probably mentally high-fiving Lucifer for his tastes in men, knowing her. “Smokes a lot, by the sound of his voice, and probably British? He had a weird accent.”

Maze's smirk fell brutally and her skin paled so fast and so unnaturally that Chloe thought she was maybe having a stroke. She watched with a sort of sick curiosity as her friend's lovely face warped into an expression she had never, _ever_ , seen on it before. Belatedly, her brain caught up to her eyes and she suddenly realized.

Maze looked _scared_.

The notion was so new, so _absurd_ Chloe could not wrap her mind around it. Maze was scared of nothing. Her idea of fun was catching dangerous criminal. With _knives_.

“Maze, are you okay? What's going on?” she asked, starting to worry herself when her friend's face seemed intent on staying stuck that way. Maze flinched violently, suddenly shaking herself out of it, shouldering her bag back and heading quickly for the exit. Chloe went after her, jogging to keep up with the other's fast pace. “What the hell, Maze? Where are you going?” she hissed, trying not to raise the attention of her colleagues working around them.

The woman's eyes were darting crazily around the precinct. Looking for an escape route, Chloe's mind unhelpfully provided. She didn't dare physically stop the bounty-hunter to reassure her, unsure of the way she would react to contact in the state of… utter panic? She was in. “Maze, okay, I don't know what's going on there, but it's gonna be alright, just, tell me what's up. Do you know that man? John Constantine?”

“Yes. And it means I'm out,” Maze finally answered curtly.

“What?” Chloe was so confused.

“If Constantine is hanging around Lucifer again, I can't stay, okay,” she added, her tone sharp.

“Wait, so you do know him?”

The bounty-hunter let out a short bark of laughter. It was not a nice sound. She stopped and turned around, too fast, too smooth of a movement. It was like she was in fight or flight mode, Chloe thought. Maze grabbed shook her out of it by wrapping her hands around her upper arms in a too strong grip, looking at her intensely.

“Listen, Chloe. John Constantine is bad news,” she began. “He's a dangerous man, for people like me, and for everyone he gets involved in his shit. And if he's in the city, shit _is_ gonna go down, trust me,” she shifted uncomfortably. “I'll be back when he's gone,” she added not unkindly after a pause. “Say hi to Trix for me.” She dropped a kiss on Chloe's forehead and took off again.

“But what about Lucifer?” Chloe shouted after her, feeling lost and dizzy with how fast that conversation had gotten out of hand.

“He's a big boy, he can handle himself,” Maze shouted back.

“We're just going to let him-” the detective stopped herself. Maze was gone and it wasn't as if Lucifer would listen to any of their advice anyway. There was never any “not letting Lucifer do anything”, ever. She sighed.

“What's gotten into her? She didn't even come to say hi!” Ella's voice piped up behind her, sounding dejected.

“She didn't even collect, more like,” added Dan's. He looked about as incredulous as Chloe felt, when she turned around to look at them both. They had walked over as she had been trying to hold back her room mate, and were just standing there frowning, probably just voicing the whole precinct's curiosity. “That was weird,” Dan said. “I mean, weirder than Maze's usual. What was that about?”

“I'm not entirely sure,” Chloe hesitated.

“She looked pretty upset,” Ella said, wringing her hands anxiously, her big brown eyes full of concern.

“Yeah, which, again, talking about Maze here. When does she ever _flee_ anything? What happened, Decker?” Dan asked pointedly.

“Don't look at me like that,” she protested. “It's about that guy at Lucifer's. Maze says he's dangerous to 'people like her' but who knows what that even means.”

“Wait,” interrupted Dan. “That guy of Lucifer, as in, that guy you asked me to look up in the database?”

“Well, yes, and see, I was right to be be worried! If someone scares _Maze_ , I want to know everything about them.”

“I can't believe you had me one of Lucifer's boyfriend,” Dan grumbled unhappily. Ella gasped.

“Chloe!” she said in a chastising tone. “That is so not on, girl!”

“I didn't have Dan stalk anyone, I just had a gut feeling and I needed info! You didn't see him, this guy was shady as hell!” the detective defended herself. “Did anything come up?” she tried redirecting the conversation.

“Yeah, I was coming to tell you about it, actually,” Dan handed her a manilla folder he'd been carrying. Chloe smiled her thanks and started looking through it. It was thicker than usual. “This dude is real bad news, Chloe. Seems like he's always around whenever something weird is going down, poking his nose in police business, and always getting away with it. Also, he, uh-” Dan looked uneasily at his colleagues, hesitating “-he apparently checked himself into different institutions over the years? Not to seem like a-” he winced and made a sour face, as if he was already regretting what he was about to say, but trudged on “-a _douche_ , you know, but something is definitely up with this Constantine guy. And I'm saying this after meeting _Lucifer_ , of all people.”

Chloe would have smiled hearing Dan use Lucifer's favorite insult on himself, but her eyes had fallen on a gruesome case report. She paled as she read on, the words of cults and dead little girl starting to swim on the page and horror dawning at the thought that _this_ was about the man currently residing at her _friend's house_.

She closed the file brutally and went to grab her things. “I'm sorry guys, I have to go,” she said, looking up. Dan and Ella exchanged worried glance, but thankfully didn't ask for an explanation.

“Just, Chloe, be careful, okay?” Dan said. He looked at her in that steady and understanding way of his.

“I'm always careful,” Chloe tried to joke. “And I'm pretty sure I can take on a skinny Brit.”

After all, she was only going to have a little conversation with one John Constantine.

  
  


*

Lucifer's detective was waiting for John in the penthouse when he came back from his meeting with the coven of Los Angeles. He had had hope that they would have willingly helped him in his spirits rising case, but no such luck. Turned out they still hated him for that one time and the Chupacabra. Well. He'd try again later in the night to break in and see if there was anything of interest in their coven. One should never pass the opportunity to liberate a thing or two from vengeful witches to fight cursed sprites.

“Luci's not here, luv,” he pointed out for the detective, taking off his trench coat and throwing it on one couch. She didn't seem like the kind of woman he wanted on his bad side, after all.

“I know that,” she answered. “I sent him to do something for me. I wanted to talk to you, actually.”

That didn't sound promising. John eyed her suspiciously as he made his way toward Lucifer's gloriously well furnished bar. Her face was perfectly blank, her body language closed-off; John briefly went back over his day in his mind, looking for anything he might have done to offend the detective. He was _pretty_ sure she couldn't know about his B&E plans already.

“Forgive me if this does not spark joy here, mate, but those words have rarely in the history of mankind been uttered before any kind of good news.”

The cop didn't smile at his tentative joke. Instead she crossed her arms and squared her jaw. Prepared for a fight then, or at least a difficult conversation. John sighed and went back to pouring himself a drink.

“Very well. What can I do you for? Do you want anything?” he rose his glass questioningly. The detective refused with a polite nod. “Cheers then, luv. Go on.”

“I know who you are,” Decker eventually began.

“Do you now, luv? Looked me up on your fancy cop-computer, have you?” He snorted. It sounded almost like a pun. Not bad. The bird didn't seem to be sharing his opinion. She glared.

“Listen, I don't know what or if Lucifer knows, but I am sure of one thing, it's that you need to leave the city. I don't care what he's keeping you around for” -John snorted again at this but the woman ignored him pointedly- “I don't want you around him.”

John took a sip of whiskey. He cocked his head to the side, taking his time to peer at her from the other end of the room. The detective looked truly upset, to the point where John wondered if she didn't have a vested interest in his own departure. Maybe a crush? It seemed more serious than that. She stood her ground faced with his silence and intense perusal. John felt begrudgingly impressed, but he didn't get so far in life doing what people told him to. John Constantine was a nasty piece of work, it was his trademark by now, couldn't just throw that away by becoming a nice law-abiding citizen. She'd better find that out now than later. He put down the half-empty glass to slip his hands down his trousers' pockets.

“And why is that, officer, if I may ask?” he said. Her face twitched at his deliberate use of the wrong rank.

“Lucifer doesn't need someone like you in his life, dragging him back down to bad parts of his past, okay? He's been doing better lately, trying to be a good person, and dealing with his, his issues,” she stuttered at the end, stumbling over her words under John's suddenly sharp look.

Oh, he thought. She _really_ didn't know. Meeting her in the morning, he had thought her confusion was faked, fabricated for him. Thought she didn't trust him enough, or didn't think Lucifer trusted him with his not-secret maybe. He never really considered the possibility that the Devil's own _partner_ didn't know who he was. Well, that was a problem. Surely, if she knew, she would realise that if someone should have been getting the shovel talk about this whole thing, it would have been Luci; or maybe not, he amended himself. He _was_ a right bastard at times. All in all, she might not have been entirely wrong, even if she had no idea – and clearly, the depth of the worry on her face, the earnestness and awkwardness with which she had said _issues_ to talk about Lucifer's Hell problems, it could only be that she _didn't know_ – how _bad_ her partner's past. It was sweet that she cared, though. But John wasn't a good man, and he needed the devil's help as much as he wanted his company. And who was more miserable and therefore better company than the first of the fallen?

“Don't get me wrong, luv,” he finally drawled out lazily. “I couldn't agree more. I am no good, but truth is, I can't do what needs to be done without Luci.” John picked up his drink and casually took a sip. He watched that muscle over Decker's face twitch again at the use of the nickname and smirked his most insufferable smirk. He leaned back against the bar, cocking his hips. “And, if you know the Old Scratch half as well as you say you do, you know _he_ needs to do what needs to be done. And that means helping me deal with the mess, that, by the way, he started. And _I_ know he can handle it.”

Nothing would make him change his mind about this. After the whole debacle with Chas the last time he was in L.A., he knew he couldn't involve any more humans in the fight. If the powers upstairs were going to make of this mission a walk through the circles of Hell, he would at least get himself a fucking immortal guide to show him around, and if the angels didn't care anymore, as he had picked up seeing Many had left without a word, well, he'd get himself a devil. Learning that Luci had moved to a piano bar in Los Angeles had felt like god sent news. And if he got to spend some time with one of his only old friend who didn't hate him _too much_ he'd take it.

“Like he could handle it that time he got shot and almost died?” the detective snapped hotly. She looked annoyed _and_ pissed off now.

John snorted, he couldn’t help it.

“Almost _died_? Are you shitting me? Luci’s last problem is death, seriously.”

“I really wish you’d all stop buying into this invulnerability act. Lucifer is a man, an extraordinary one alright, but he bleeds just fine, like any other man.” Decker spoke between clenched teeth.

“Yeah, because you’ve seen him bleed maybe?” John snarked, rolling his eyes.

“Yes! I have! It was my fault! And I don’t ever want it to happen again!”

John’s smirk dropped. The woman obviously wasn’t lying, which meant that something _was_ going on with Luci that he had definitely _not_ told him about. Still. Luci had seemed to be just as strong and supernaturally charming as he usually was. He would need to investigate, but that could wait. He crossed his legs loosely, stuck his chin out stubbornly and waited silently, broadcasting the fact he would not back down anyway. 

Internally, he steeled himself for some more arguing, but as he looked from the top of his tumbler of whiskey, toasting his own wittiness and taking a satisfied sip, he could only freeze as the detective's face crumpled.

“I have a daughter,” she said, still standing tall, but there was something in her eyes now, something vulnerable, both angry and very afraid, that gripped John's guts and twisted cruelly.

“I've read about what happened with Astra Logue,” she kept going, her voice hard. John took another sip, to hide his unease this time. He shifted his stance, trying to find back his footing. “Lucifer is at our house every other day, and he would never say it but he loves her, and Trixie absolutely adore him. His best-friend lives with us, and she's Trix's favorite babysitter. If you put him in danger, you're putting her in danger,” the detective pushed, a hound smelling blood – bloody coppers, John cursed mentally.

The woman was looking straight into his eyes and John couldn't meet hers anymore, the guilt and the pain coming back again like a punch in the gut. He'd never be free of it, he knew. He drained his glass turned his back on the detective, slamming it on the counter and reaching for the bottle of liquor. He felt unsteady suddenly, having to catch himself on the bar, closing his eyes for a second. Decker was still talking, he knew, but he couldn't focus. He poured himself a shaky drink, not caring if there was too much of it in the glass (of course there was too much, how else did people _cope_ , anyway?). He pulled a high chair and let his body drop down on it, turning back to the woman. She was silent again, just staring at him. There was something softer to her expression now, some sort of understanding, maybe.

“Constantine –” she hesitated, voice definitely softer. John hated that sound – it sounded like pity. He knew he was pathetic, thank you very much, didn't need every stranger to remind him of it with kind tones and puppy eyes. God, how did Luci even deal with this bird anyway? “– I don't know what really happened there, in Newcastle, I mean no one does, but I can see you're not the heartless asshole you pretend to be, just like Lucifer. I'm used to his ways, and if you're his friend, if you really care, just, please, don't rope him in this plans of yours. If not for him and my little girl...” 

John rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed. He was exhausted.

God, he needed a fag.

“Yeah, alright luv,” he gave a defeated nod, blearily searching his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. Probably left them in his coat, he thought absent-mindedly. He sighed again.

On the other end of the room, the detective's head jerked in surprise. She gaped for a second. “Yeah?” she repeated, disbelief clear in her tone. Probably expected more of a fight. Eh, too bad for her. John didn't have much energy left in him for useless fights anymore.

“Yeah,” he said again, heaving himself out of his seat, going for his coat. He pulled out his cigarettes. He stopped paying attention to the detective, enjoying the rush of nicotine in his system instead. He waved vaguely in her direction as she left with an awkward thank you. He'd have to pack his stuff and find a motel before Luci showed up.

In a minute, he mused, watching the way the cherry of the cigarette light up in the dim light of the empty penthouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I wanted Maze to stay too but honestly she's better out of this one. And maybe she'll come back later! She does as she wants tbh. Love you all;
> 
> PS: this is unbeta'ed and I'm French, so if you see any typo just hit me up; if you wanna be my beta you can ALSO hit me up. Bisous

**Author's Note:**

> look who's publishing new stuff when they should be finishing old one PLUS find themselves something to do with their future? tis I but as I'm quarantined I give myself all the rights.  
> bise


End file.
